


Counting Dewdrops

by Nenalata



Series: Farmer's Almanac [3]
Category: Harvest Moon, Story of Seasons: Trio of Towns
Genre: Cooking Lessons, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Language of Flowers, Mystic Monthly, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Reading Auras, Rival Pairs, Romance, Super Duper Domestic, This is so fluffy sappy sweet that I want to throw up in a happy way, cooking together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2019-12-18 15:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18252860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nenalata/pseuds/Nenalata
Summary: Post-Sunshower. A day with Wayne and Siluka as their relationship develops. And another day. And another day. And another—Collection of vignettes I wrote in response to some tumblr prompting for this pairing and never immortalized here...until now. Feel free to send in more prompts, if so you choose, because I know you're all just as eager for more Wayne/Siluka as I am—the rival pairing that never was but really should have been, we all know it. Because I'm only half-joking when I say we could all use a little more sickly-sweet, disgustingly domestic, fluffy romance in our lives.





	1. A “Hope We Don’t Get Caught” Kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> A “Hope We Don’t Get Caught” Kiss.

“You’ll never take me alive, cowboy scum!”

Wayne ducked a potentially lethal swipe of Schalk’s driftwood, but his grin remained on his face. The hat was not so lucky.

“I’ve fought more fearsome pirates than you!” Wayne taunted, swinging an imaginary lasso at his foe. Schalk, giggling, dodged out of the way, but slipped on the fallen hat and landed with a hard plop on the grass. Alma tottered up to Wayne and clung to his leg while he struck a victorious pose.

“Cowboys are so handsome,” Alma squeaked. “I’m going to marry a cowboy when I grow up.”

Schalk got to his feet and tried to scowl. “Cowboys are _cheaters_.”

Siluka, dozing in the shade of Mithra and Lotus’s roof, smiled to herself. She didn’t need to sit up to know Wayne’s cheeks would be turning pink. She wouldn’t’ve sat up anyway, but knowing her boyfriend’s habits extremely well was a good enough excuse.

“Dinner!” Zahau called from the house below. Schalk’s scowl deepened with genuine disappointment. 

“Da-a-d, Wayne’s almost dead! I almost got him!”

Caolila’s voice joined them. “Let’s see how long _you_ last if you don’t come in _right now_.”

Schalk was gone in a flash. Alma, taking her time in unwrapping her arms from Wayne’s leg, stumbled after him. Siluka curled onto her side, back facing the house, watching Wayne pick up his hat and dust it off. He joined her on the stubby grass, stretching out next to her and plopping the hat on her own head. Even with her face half-covered, Siluka could see him smiling with shameless adoration at her.

“Your face is sunburnt,” she noted. She reached out and poked his nose. A white indentation lingered before fading back to pink. “See?” Wayne swiped a hand over his face, as if it had magically turned into a hand mirror. 

“Ah, goodness,” he sighed, flopping back on the grass, arms akimbo. “Can’t even spend a day off without some sort of awful adventure. Sunburn, pirate invasions…”

“I’ll be careful when I kiss you, then,” Siluka laughed, scooting closer. Hat askew, she paused when she saw his serious expression fixed on the sky. She propped her chin on his shoulder and pressed her lips against his jaw instead. “Your aura is blue.”

“Is that good?” Wayne asked the sky.

“Not this shade of blue.”

Finally, he rolled over on his side to face her. Siluka drew back to look at him properly. “I know Schalk was just teasin’, but…Siluka—”

Siluka blinked. “You’re not a cheater. I know that. They’re just a fanclub.”

His face froze for just a second, just long enough that she could see its relief, then split into a sheepish grin. “You always know just how to read me,” he replied. Siluka pulled the lapels of his coat, using them as leverage, and rolled on top of him.

“We read each other well, I think.”

Wayne’s cheeks were pinker than the sunburn could take credit for. He glanced first at the archaeologists’ house, then Zahau’s house, then behind her to the path. Siluka leaned her forehead on his and pecked the tip of his nose.

“Don’t you think—”

“I think it’s dinnertime,” she hummed, sliding down his body to lean into a real kiss. Wayne didn’t need much encouragement after that.

By the time the sun was no longer much of a threat, bickering voices climbing up the path tried to reach them, and failed. Too caught up in their kiss, they didn’t realize Mithra and Lotus had returned home from the inn until an uncharacteristically embarrassed Mithra was yelling at Lotus to stop pulling his hat down and to go find some water to splash the couple with.


	2. Tender Kisses When One Brings Home Flowers for the Other

There was an unfamiliar plant on the doorstep.

Wayne stared at it, a rather ugly yellow blossom with a sickly green stem. It wasn’t very noticeable, but Wayne swept the stoop daily, sometimes more than once, and it was unlikely the summer air had blown and blustered some exotic bloom this far. He opened the door a crack, and the flower flopped inside to join—

There were _more_.

Strewn across the floorboards were ugly little flowers, scattered like a trail to mail from the doorway and on. Wayne pushed the door open and stepped inside, animalistic alarm ringing his senses. Was this how horror stories began? Was this the doing of an overzealous fan?

And what was that _smell_?

Piquant and sharp, it might have been pleasant were it not so strong. And it seemed to be coming from everywhere. Everywhere the flowers were clumped, in particular. Wayne gingerly picked up one of the tossed flowers and gave it a quick whiff, hoping against hope it wasn’t poison.

It smelled like food, not poison. An odd way to go.

“Wayne?” Like a cool gust of air, Siluka’s voice from the other room refreshed him, set him more at ease. “I hope that’s you.”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he called back, dropping the strangely-scented flower back on the floor. He began following the trail, careful not to crush the blossoms under his feet—that would be a right pain to clean out of the cracks in the wood. Rounding the corner, Wayne saw that the path of flowers continued into his living room, past the compact kitchen, straight to his—

“Darlin’, I got a question for you,” Wayne said, feeling heat rush straight to his face and other parts even as he spoke. The sensation conflicted with the pungent smell permeating the walls.

“Yes?” Her slow, upside-down smile did maddening things to him, like a grinning cat in a storybook.

“There a reason you’ve put these flowers everywhere?” He traced his tongue on his dry lower lip, and her eyes followed the movement. “And why you’re on my bed surrounded by ‘em?”

Siluka frowned and rolled onto her stomach, scattering flimsy petals as she did so. “You don’t like them? I bought them in Tsuyukusa.”

With her arms crossed in front of her, Siluka didn’t seem to notice how her neckline was gaping. Wayne matched her, frown for frown. “You bought these? And threw them on the floor?”

“And your bed,” Siluka added. “You’re very neat. We can probably boil these later and not get sick.”

“Boil ‘em?”

“It’s ginger.” The smile was back on her face, and she tossed her hair back, sweet and graceful. “You like flowers.”

Something in Wayne’s heart puffed up a little, affection rendering him speechless. His boots ground some of the ginger blossoms into his rug on his way to the bed. Siluka returned to her original position when the mattress sank underneath his weight, a quietly triumphant grin on her round face. Wayne cupped her face in his hands and bent over, brushing his lips over her mouth. Her hand reached to tangle fingers in his hair and bring him closer, but he pulled back, realizing his question had not quite been answered.

“I like a lot of flowers you needn’t’ve spent your cash on,” he admonished her. “Why’d ya go all the way to Tsuyukusa to buy these?”

Siluka wound her arms around his neck, her eyes deceptively innocent. “I read it in _Mystic Monthly_. Ginger is an aphrodisiac.”

Stunned, Wayne’s body warred with the decision of reaching for her again or laughing hysterically. She took the opportunity to stretch up and press a gentle kiss at the corner of his lips. Wayne tilted his head without thinking better of it, meeting her mouth with his own, when, without warning, the hilarity of the situation struck him.

It started as a giggle against her lips, then grew into a smile that made him stop kissing her, which made _her_ giggle, and by the time the laughter hit them both, their foreheads were pressed against each other, noses bumping, lips not quite touching, her arms draped over his shoulders and his hands resting on the sides of her ribs, laughing for all the world like a pair of clowns.

“I love you,” Wayne said when their laughter had subsided, even though a chuckle escaped him mid-sentence. “Siluka, I love you so much. But please—we gotta get rid of these awful flowers somehow. I feel like I can’t breathe.”

Siluka beamed. “Okay.” They disentangled themselves and began brushing the smelly flowers off his sheets. With his back turned to scoop up the things, Wayne almost didn’t hear her quiet voice add, “But it worked, right?”

The giggles threatened to destroy him again if the heat in his belly didn’t. “We’re both in trouble, darlin’.”


	3. Teaching the Other Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teaching the Other Something New

“Sweets are easier,” Siluka explained, reclining in Wayne’s armchair. He’d helped her push it facing the kitchen so she could keep him company while he cooked. “So are shakes. And Iluka usually does all that, anyway. I do the salads and curries, though.”

Wayne eyed a cup full of flour before dumping it into the fresh coconut milk she’d brought. “So whaddya eat at home, then? I mean, who cooks?”

Siluka shrugged, the motion making Holly’s borrowed winter coat practically swallow her whole. She’d refused to take it off inside the post office. Autumn in Westown was not a Lulukokan-friendly space, according to her. “I’m tired when we get home, and Iluka’s so nervous. So Nana and Big Brother usually cook for us now. And Holly gives us food when she brings the baby for a visit.”

Wayne paused in his whisking to frown, or as close to frowning as he could get. “You’re saying you an’ your sister never cook your own meals?” 

Siluka matched him frown for frown. “We do. I do. I’m just tired a lot. And fish is hard to cook. And Zahau looked really happy. So that’s why I asked you. And I like ika vakamiti. I just don’t know how to make it is all.”

Wayne took a few seconds to consider her. She was curled up in what had been deemed “her” armchair, clutching her billowing coat around her knees in a defensive position. She wasn’t hiding behind her braids, but that only meant he could see her sulky expression. He’d seen Siluka frown as many times as he’d eaten yogurt, and never at him. He put down the whisk and smiled warmly at her.

“You’re a good cook, Sil. Fryin’ up some fish should be no trouble.”

It didn’t help. “Well, it is.”

Wayne leaned over the counter, waiting until she met his eye. He smiled again. He hoped it was an encouraging smile, and maybe it was, because her self-conscious glare wavered.

“Well, let’s get in trouble together, huh?” He reached into the bag he’d used to buy groceries and tossed an orange in the air. “You wanna juice this for me? Can ya help me with that?”

“I know how to juice fruit,” Siluka mumbled, but she began uncurling.

“That’s why I asked ya, darlin’.”

While he minced the spices, Siluka slunk next to him and began halfheartedly slicing the orange, the lemon, the tomato. Despite her grumpy effort, the two of them, cooking together, in _his_ kitchen, filled Wayne with giddiness. He’d never had a girl he’d been seeing over for dinner until Siluka. But he’d figured it would always be one or the other of them cooking for each other–never as a group project. He couldn’t’ve imagined how cozy it felt, how it filled some sort of domestic part of him he didn’t know he had. 

Without realizing it, he’d started humming. It was a round he and Siluka had learned from Miranda, and it really was better with three people, but the two of them had started singing it together on their long walks between the two towns. It wasn’t until Siluka started humming along, counterpoint to his verse, that Wayne realized he’d been humming at all.

He nearly dropped an entire clump of chili peppers into the saucepot simmering away on the range and muttered a relieved curse. Siluka glanced up from where she was dicing bok choy, but he had already replaced the extra chilis on the cutting board and was nonchalantly washing his hands, like he hadn’t just envisioned their future together and understood for the first time just how badly he wanted it.

Siluka tossed the rest of the fruits and spices into the sauce and peered up at him. “What are you thinking about?” she asked him, concern making her voice softer than usual. 

Wayne looked at her billowing, borrowed sleeves, her braids desperately in need of a trim, her knife dripping juice onto his kitchen floor. “The usual things. About how much I love being with you.”

Siluka’s eyes widened, creased brows already losing evidence of their frustrated wrinkles, a small smile threatening the corners of her lips. She bopped her head against his button-down, nearly killing him with the cuteness of it all, and let the smile grow when she looked up again. Gesturing with the messy knife at the mahi mahi staring at them on the other counter, she nodded, apology in the movement.

“Can you teach me how to prepare that?”


	4. "I've missed you" Kiss.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An "I've missed you" Kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's some more pre-Halloween sickly-sweet stuff!
> 
> Happy to take prompts now, because this is actually the last one I can find. My organizational skills are the worst.

His heart faltered every time he saw her for the first time each day. When she peeked through the swinging doors of the Garden Grill to see if he was there. When she waved to him from the cafe even though he was just at Lulukoko’s gates, as if she could sense his presence. When he caught her napping by the pond at the crossroads. Every single time, Wayne had to take a moment to stop, to make sure his blood was still coursing through his veins, and remember to breathe right. 

Their towns weren’t so far apart that he couldn’t see Siluka whenever he wanted, but just enough with their busy jobs that it was _a little too far_. Wayne hated saying goodbye when the sun set, Siluka’s hand lingering in his when they began to pull away from each other. He felt the distance and, if he were being honest, feared it. Feared the lonely walk back to Westown, feared the sleepless nights in his bed, and yes, feared that his constant desire to see her and touch her and be with her was too much. 

Wayne loved her, loved her like he loved all his friends, and loved her in a different way. Terrifying. Exhilarating. Nerve-wracking. Delightful. He needed his time alone like anyone did, like Siluka did, and if he were being honest with himself, that heart-stopping daily moment when he saw her was made all the sweeter by anticipation.

And on the days that it _did_ worry him, _did_ make him wonder if he was always too much, too much–

Siluka’s face lit up like the moon the moment she caught sight of him. Smile unfurling on her lips. Soft hands reaching for his face. “I’ve missed you, too,” she said on those days, smoothing her thumbs over his cheeks and pecking him on the lips. A simple thing, a quick kiss, like they weren’t in the middle of the beach where anyone could see, but somehow she always knew.


End file.
